


You Mean The World To Me

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 17:04:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4229856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa always presented himself as so confident, so sure of his abilities, that it scared him when he doubted himself. What else did he have, if not unlimited faux confidence? So right now he just needed to listen to Iwaizumi. He needed to indulge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Mean The World To Me

It wasn't often that Oikawa lost his composure, usually the motivating spirit of the team, encouraging everyone else to do their best, because that was all that mattered. Of course, Oikawa was all talk, because his best had just cost them the match, his best hadn't been good enough. His cheeks were crusty with dry tears, his throat sore from crying. He was fed up; he was weak, stupid, _useless._

Oikawa screamed into his pillow, the soft material muffling the painful noise. He had been so desperate to win. He wanted to show people that he could do it, that he was just as good as the King, maybe even better. Well, he'd royally messed that one up. His knee was weak, he'd always know that much, but he hadn't thought much about it after practice. He'd ignored the light thrumming behind his knee cap, simply attributing the feeling to a successful training session. He was wrong. He collapsed to the floor during the match, a searing pain shooting up his leg. He had bit his bottom lip so hard to stop from screaming out that he drew blood. He could still taste the metallic substance.

Iwaizumi had been right at his side, telling Oikawa how he was such an idiot, and he shouldn't have worked himself so hard. Oikawa's knee had worked itself back into place by the time the ambulance had arrived. They'd picked him up and whisked him away to the hospital he was all too familiar with. The doctors had told him the same thing that they always told him- take his medicine, wear his splint for a couple of days, then his supporter the rest of the time. Don't put too much pressure on it. He'd laughed at that.

His phone vibrated on his bedside table, as it had been doing for the last five minutes. He had been trying to ignore it, but the notifications were persistent, insistent, and damn annoying. He groaned and raised his head from his pillow, wrinkling his nose at the tear stained patch he had left on the UFO and alien pattern. He should get that changed; he was 17, after all.

He squinted his eyes against the bright glare of his phone, having adjusted to the comfortable darkness of his bedroom. Sighing heavily, he opened the conversation.

**To: Iwaizumi**  
hope u didn't miss me too much!! how much did we win by?? ^_^

**From: Iwaizumi**  
We lost.

Oikawa hadn't replied. There was something in that text that made his blood run cold and his heart stop. At first, he thought it was the realisation that the King had beaten him once again, but he later realised he was wrong. It was the full stop. It may only be one pixel on the screen, just a tiny dot of code, but it carried so much meaning. It said Iwaizumi was angry at him. It said he was the reason they'd lost. It said Oikawa was worthless, pathetic, _useless._

He bit back the tears that stung the backs of his eyes and threatened to spill down his already drenched cheeks. He continued to read.

**From: Iwaizumi**  
We'll win next time.

_No we won't. Not if I'm playing._

**From: Iwaizumi**  
Are you okay?

_Not in the slightest._

**From: Iwaizumi**  
I told you not to overwork yourself, Trashykawa.

_I know. I know what you said._

**From: Iwaizumi**  
Why are you ignoring me? Did I do something wrong?

_No, you could never do anything wrong, Iwa-chan._

**From: Iwaizumi**  
I'm coming over.

"Wha-" Oikawa dropped his phone onto his pillow in surprise. Iwaizumi couldn't come over, he couldn't see Oikawa like this. Ignoring the doctor's advice, Oikawa pushed himself up off of his bed. He winced at the dull throb this movement caused, but he was used to it by now. Dislocating his knee was almost like an irritating habit he couldn't get over and just had to accept. He hobbled over to his full length mirror, the one that was lightly stained with sticky soda from the time Oikawa had shook Iwaizumi's can of soda when he left the room for a few minutes. It had drenched his best friend, sticking his clothes to his firmly chiselled chest and firm looking arms. Long story short, that was when Oikawa realised he may have a slight thing for his best friend. And when he said 'slight thing', he meant ridiculously huge, undeniable thing.

The person staring back at Oikawa was nearly unrecognisable. His hair was mussed around his head, brown fluff sticking up haphazardly in all directions. His face was pale and sunken with exhaustion. It looked hollow, dull, almost resembling a skull. His lips were slightly chapped, slightly scabbing over where he'd gnawed on his lips earlier. The dull luminescence of the moon poured in through his window and caused the river of tears that had collected on his cheeks to glisten dimly. The brown eyes that usually sparkled with cheer were empty. They seemed cold, distant in the black circles beneath them. He was still wearing his shorts, but had changed his shirt for an oversized Godzilla shirt Iwaizumi had let him take, since it was way too big for him anyway, so Oikawa may as well have it to get some use out of it. It had smelt like Iwaizumi, of his deodorant, his shampoo, his sweat.

"Oi, Assikawa, you're not naked in there are you?" A gruff voice came from outside Oikawa's door. Maybe if Oikawa didn't reply, Iwaizumi would think he was asleep and leave him alone. The hallway fell silent. The silence was soon broken by a sigh from the other side of the door. The next voice was quiet, muttered under his breath. "Please don't be naked."

The door slid open, light pouring in like a golden stream. Iwaizumi stood in the light, looking like some sort of ethereal being, his silhouette cast dramatically against the opposite wall. His dark hair, the colour of tempting chocolate, was haloed by the light. The ends of his hair seemed to curl at the ends, probably a result of the gentle drizzle outside, or perhaps the sweat after the game. His eyes scanned the room. They narrowed as they settled on Oikawa, standing like a deer caught in headlights.

"What the hell are you doing out of bed?" Iwaizumi demanded, his eyebrows furrowing.

"I thought I'd get up and practice a dance routine," Oikawa teased. He was going to pretend that everything was fine, despite the tell-tale tears still trailing down his face.

"Sit down, idiot."

"Iwa-chan, are you my mum?"

"Sit down, Oikawa."

"But I really need to practice this routine, dancing is my dream, my pass-"

_"Sit down."_

Iwaizumi practically hissed. Oikawa gulped; although he took delight in teasing Iwaizumi, he knew when he'd pushed it too far. Now was one of those times. Intense eyes bore a hole in his back as he hobbled over to his bed. He collapsed onto the messy sheets, feeling instant relief from his knee. The throbbing subsided. Iwaizumi slid the door closed behind him, the light rattling mimicking the sound of Oikawa's erratically beating heart. The bed dipped lightly to the left of Oikawa. Iwaizumi looked down at Oikawa, a look of worry on his face as his eyebrows knitted together and his lips were pursed.

"You shouldn't frown," Oikawa lifted his hand to prod Iwaizumi between his brows. "It'll give you wrinkles."

"And you shouldn't cry, it doesn't suit you."

Iwaizumi's look was so full of raw emotion that it made Oikawa's heart stutter behind his ribs. He forgot how to breathe for a second, his next breath coming out raggedly against the silence of the room.

"Why are you crying, Oikawa?" His voice was so soft, so tender, as though he were afraid Oikawa might shatter.

"I'm not crying."

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. He brought his index finger down to Oikawa's cheek, trailing a path along it gently. Oikawa didn't think his heart had ever beat this fast, this irregularly, relentless against his ribcage, as though it were trying to break out and reveal itself to Iwaizumi. The dark haired boy pulled his finger away and gazed at it.

"Really? Because these look like tears to me."

Oikawa sighed and pushed himself up into a sitting position. He forced himself to ignore the warmth that shot through his arm as he brushed up against his crush, forced himself to ignore the delightfully close proximity. He turned his head to look at the shorter boy, who was still staring at his finger in confused wonderment. Oikawa pondered what he must be thinking about.

"I'm sorry," Oikawa whispered, his voice cracking as he felt a new wave of tears threatening to spill.

"What the hell are you apologising for?"

Oikawa blinked, "Well, because I ruined the game, didn't I?"

"You ruined the game?" Iwaizumi scoffed. "No, we lost because we played like shit."

"You don't have to pretend for me, Iwa-chan," Oikawa smiled lightly. "I'm such an idiot. You kept telling me to stop overworking myself, but I did it anyway. I just- I guess I'm just so done with feeling inferior. I hate feeling useless. Sometimes I think I was only made team captain to keep me quiet. I'm definitely not the best player on the team, but I reckon I'm in the running for the most useless. Oikawa Tooru, the most pathetic excuse for a team captain in the whole world. His special move is knee dislocation! Sometimes I think I'd be better as the gorgeous team mascot, but then I look in the mirror and think, maybe not. The stress is definitely thinning my hair, don't you think? It used to be a lot fluffier. And I've got awful bags under my eyes, which aren't particularly attractive, and-"

"I don't understand how anyone so perfect can pick out so many stupid imperfections."

Oikawa's eyes widened. A gentle flush flowered up Iwaizumi's neck, painted his cheeks and tinted his earlobes. From this angle, Iwaizumi was easy to appreciate. His hair stuck up randomly in every direction. It was a gorgeous chestnut colour, deep and rich like freshly brewed coffee. His eyes were a beautiful brown, with green flecks shooting out from around the pupil like an emerald flame. His cheekbones and jawline were perfectly chiselled, set in his face as though they were sculpted as carefully as a marble statue. Iwaizumi Hajime was stunning. Oikawa felt the need to trace his fingers over Iwaizumi's face. He wanted to feel every ridge and every bump, wanted to feel the softness of his cheeks and the hardness of his cheekbones. He felt the need to follow the path of Iwaizumi's jawline into the tempting depths of hair, perhaps even allow himself to run his fingers through his hair, to feel the feather-like of it against his calloused hands.

"Iwa-chan, I'm not-"

"You are," He sounded so certain, like there was nothing in the world that would make him change his mind. The weight of this hit Oikawa. He let out a stuttering breath. "I would do anything, anything, to show you what I see when I look at you."

Oikawa's heart was in his mouth. The pair were so close together, Iwaizumi's breath fanning Oikawa's face, hands lightly brushing where they were set between them on the bed, the smell of fresh rain in Iwaizumi's hair. Oikawa allowed his eyes to flutter shut, revelling in the sensation of being caressed so tenderly by Iwaizumi's light breathing, shallower and quicker than normal. He would be content staying like this forever, he thought. The warmth of his best friend, his crush, his love beside him. He tried to ignore the thudding of his heart in his ears so he could better appreciate the sounds of Iwaizumi.

"Tell me," Oikawa breathed. _"Please."_

Oikawa always presented himself as so confident, so sure of his abilities, that it scared him when he doubted himself. What else did he have, if not unlimited faux confidence? So right now he just needed to listen to Iwaizumi. He needed to indulge.

"Oikawa, I-" He scratched the back of his neck. "God I suck at this. You're right, you are an idiot. You should've listened to me. You scared the crap out of me when you fell to the floor like that, I thought it was something really serious."

"Sor-"

"But that's why you're the captain," He continued, looking Oikawa dead in the eyes. "People know you'll always work hard for the team. You're damn irritating and overwork yourself, but you'll always do your best for us."

Oikawa could feel hot tears spilling down his face. They tasted salty, slightly stinging the cuts on his lips. His breath was ragged, his chest shuddering with every uncertain breath. Warmth engulfed his cheek as Iwaizumi brought a hand up, wiping Oikawa's tears away with his thumb. Oikawa let out a shaky sigh as he leant into Iwaizumi's hand, rough, calloused palm against smooth, dampened cheek.

"You're not pathetic, and you couldn't be further from useless. Even though you annoy the hell out of me, I can't imagine anyone else as team captain. I can't imagine feeling this way about anyone other than you."

Iwaizumi's face was burning by this point, and Oikawa thought he looked adorably vulnerable. The beating of Oikawa's heart was almost painful as it slammed against his chest. He wondered if Iwa-chan's heart was beating fast, too. He couldn't resist the temptation, lifting his hand to rest it on Iwaizumi's chest, over his inconsistently beating heart. A small smile graced Oikawa's lips.

"Iwa-chan," Oikawa's whisper was barely audible. "Your heart is beating really fast."

Iwaizumi gulped, his Adam's apple dancing under the smooth skin at his throat. He still had his hand on Oikawa's face and was absently stroking his thumb back and forth across his cheek.

"I know, God I know. Oikawa, please don't freak out, but I- I think-" Iwaizumi's voice cracked and he gnawed on his lip. "I think I like you."

If Oikawa wasn't flustered before, then he certainly was now. He knotted his hand in the soft fabric of Iwaizumi's shirt, where it was rested just above his heart. The thumping had gotten faster after the declaration, almost matching the speed of Oikawa's own heart.

"And here I was, thinking I was going to live a life of unrequited love for you, Hajime."

If only Oikawa knew what that name did to Iwaizumi. It made him shiver pleasantly, it unfurled a warmth deep in his gut that he'd never felt before, it made his hair stand on end and it made him oh so desperate to kiss the lips the name had tumbled from so beautifully.

"You mean the world to me," Iwaizumi moved his free hand to grab Oikawa's. Both hands were clammy, but neither boy cared. Oikawa intertwined their fingers, feeling a pleasant warmth spread up his arm. He had waited for this for so long, had dreamt about this; the dream wasn't as good as the reality. "You always have, I've just been too dumb to realise. It has always been you. This sounds so clichéd, but I honestly can't imagine my life without you."

Oikawa laughed airily, "Who knew Iwa-chan was one for cheesy romance?"

"Shut up."

The pair fell into a comfortable silence. Oikawa relished in the feel of Iwaizumi's hand pressed against his own. He enjoyed the feeling of Iwaizumi's heart pounding against his firm chest, and smiled fondly as it seemed to dance to the tempo of his own heart.

"Iwa-chan?"

"Mhm."

"I'd really like it if you kissed me," Oikawa dared a glance at Iwaizumi through his lashes. He looked a little taken aback, but soon regained his composure. He moved his hand from Oikawa's cheek, running his finger along the edge of his jaw, before allowing it to settle under his chin. Oikawa's breath came out in a heated sigh. Tears threatened to escape once more as Iwaizumi gazed at him as though he were the most precious thing in the world, as though he meant something.

"Thank God," Iwaizumi breathed, before using his finger to guide Oikawa's lips down to his own. It was perfect. Well, it was when they managed to find an angle without bumping noses awkwardly. Oikawa's eyes fluttered shut as he allowed Iwaizumi to take control, to do as he wished. Iwaizumi's lips were soft and warm, and Oikawa thought he could taste sugar. Oikawa moved his hands to do what he'd wanted to do earlier; he traced the line of the darker haired boy's jaw, following it into the recedes of his hair, which fell like gracefully falling Autumn leaves around his fingers, knotting his fingers in the shorter hairs hidden at the back of his neck.

Oikawa swallowed the sigh that the other boy released. Iwaizumi moved his hands, resting one lightly at the back of his head and the other at the small of his back, pulling him in closer. Oikawa shuffled closer on the bed to help him. They adjusted so that their chests were pressed flush together, beating heart against beating heart, rising chest against falling chest. Oikawa's nerves were on fire, every gentle touch from Iwaizumi sending a volt of electricity shooting through him, or sending a pleasurable shiver down his spine.

Their lips moved together in perfect synchronisation, and God it felt good. There were tiny, desperate gasps bubbling from Oikawa's lips, which collaborated in a chorus with the practically inaudible moans rising from Iwaizumi's throat. Oikawa never wanted this to stop. He never wanted to stop holding Iwaizumi, or stop tasting him, smelling him, hearing him.

It was with great reluctance that the pair pulled away, breathing ragged, faces flushed, hair and clothes considerably messier. Iwaizumi didn't let the taller boy go, though, instead pulling him down to rest their foreheads together. Their shallow breaths intermingled between them, hot and heavy.

"Feeling any better?" Iwaizumi asked.

"A bit, but I think I might need a bit more to feel completely better."

Iwaizumi snorted, "Only if you promise me one thing."

"Oh?"

"Come to me if you ever feel like this again, okay? I hate seeing you cry."

Oikawa took one of Iwaizumi's hands in his, curling their fingers together, "Of course, Hajime."

Oikawa doesn't know how long they stayed like that, whether it was minutes or hours, but it was a moment he will never forget.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was originally written as a drabble for a request, but I _really_ like how it turned out, so decided to post it here! Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Follow my writing blog: http://bealikestowrite.tumblr.com


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